


Same Fear, Different Love

by Roosterteethlover



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Ozpin's fist name is Whiataker, Thunderstorms, You can't change my mind, Young Headmaster Oz AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29843004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roosterteethlover/pseuds/Roosterteethlover
Summary: Whitaker Ozpin has always been terrified of thunderstorms, that hasn't changed. But the people who help him through it have.
Relationships: Ozpin & Ozymandias, Ozpin & The Old King Of Vale
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Same Fear, Different Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phantomdragon321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomdragon321/gifts).



> Helloooooo! This hit me at work last night and I had no choice but to write it!

“Once upon a time, there was a young boy with silvery grey hair.”

“Like me!”

“Yes Whitaker, just like you! And also just like you, he had wild golden eyes, and liked to cause mischief wherever he could!”

His mama nuzzled her nose to his when she said this, making him giggle. Mama always told the bestest bedtime stories, and tonight he was sure would be no different. He snuggled closer to his mama’s side, breathing her comforting familiar scent of vanilla and faint metal. He was warm and content, his mamas fingers running softly through his hair as she spoke.

“This little boy's name was… Wayland. He lived with his mama in their little house in the country.”

He felt his eyelids grow heavier, and his yawns were more frequent and he could feel himself drifting off.

That was when the first crack of thunder hit. Whitaker shot straight up, now wide awake and terrified.

“Mama!” he cried, his tiny hands clutching her shirt as his eyes filled with tears.

Mama picked him up and settled him on her lap, hugging him tight and petting his hair. “Shh, shh, it’s ok. It’s alright Whitaker. Remember it’s only noise, it’s not gonna hurt you.”

Whitaker only whimpered and pressed his face into Mama’s shirt. He was shaking and could feel his tears wetting Mama’s shirt.

Mama started to softly rock him back and forth, and her soft voice reached his ears with a familiar song.

“Little child, be not afraid. The storm pounds hard against the glass, like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger. I am here tonight.”

He sniffled and sobbed as she sang and rubbed his back. The storm outside was raging on, wind whistling, rain pelting, and the worst part, thunder booming. But she continued to sing and rub his back, even pulling the blanket over them both.

Slowly, his tears subsided, his sobs evened out to normal breathing and he relaxed into his mama. She continued to sing, her hand finding its way back to his hair. His thumb was in his mouth as, once again, his eyelids grew heavy, and his yawns increased in frequency. 

The last thing he heard before slipping into dreamland was a loving, “Goodnight Whitaker. I love you.”

~

It was years later. The scene had changed quite a bit. Now where there had been a little 5 year old, there was now a 14 year old. There was no mother. And the room was quite different. A bed in front of a large half-circle window that looked out of the campus of the school he ran. A boy too young, yet too old, to be here much less run the place. A storm was raging outside. Whipping and whistling wind, pelting rain on the glass, and the worst part, booming thunder.

The teen lay in bed, blankets pulled tight over him as he shook. Whimpering softly each time the thunder cracked.

He felt idiotic. He was a teenager. A headmaster. He had a millenniums old wizard king living in his head. Yet he was still so scared of a little noise?

He felt weak.

Another particularly loud boom of thunder made him cry out pulling the blankets over his head, his shaking increasing as tears stung his eyes.

“Boy?” he heard, a familiar presence forming next to him.

He only sniffled in response and pulled the blankets tighter.

Brothers this was the last thing he wanted. He at least wanted to pretend that the old king wasn’t in his head right now. But no. Now he was all to aware of how weak, and stupid, and pathetic he looked right now. 

A 14 year old boy, curled up under his blankies while a big dumb storm scares him.

Pathetic.

“Are you ok?” Ozymandias asks, his voice soft and filled with concern.

Whitaker was about to lie and say he was just fine when another crack of thunder made him cry out in fear.

“I see.” Brothers, Whitaker just wished the floor would swallow him up.

But, much to his surprise, he felt a warm hand on his back. A hand that was there, but wasn’t. Much like the man himself.

“It’s alright Whitaker. I’m here.” the old king soothed, his hand rubbing small circles on his back.

Whitaker wanted to move away, not accept the comfort, fake being strong for a minute. But instead, he found himself melting into the touch.

“I’m sorry.” the teen rasped through another sob.

The hand briefly stilled before continuing in its circular pattern. “It’s ok Whitaker. We all have fears. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“It’s a stupid thunderstorm.” he shot back. “I shouldn’t be-”

Another crack of thunder, another yelp, and he felt even more idiotic.

“I shouldn’t be so scared.” he finished in a hoarse whisper.

His companion didn’t speak for a moment. The wind and rain filled the silence between them. A sigh punctuated the air as it exited Ozymandias’s mouth.

“Boy. There is no shame in fear. Even if fears that seem… childish. You are not weak, or stupid, or childish for being scared.”

Whitaker let out a shuddering sigh and slowly pulled the blankets off his head, looking at his companion next to him. A slightly glowing green man, though the light never truly illuminated anything. He gave Whitaker a kind smile, the rubs turning to light scratching on his back.

“You are not weak Whitaker.”

That seemed to be the thing to break him, as the teen began to open cry and all but throw himself at the old king. Ozymandias seemed quite caught off guard, hugged him tightly regardless.

Whitaker sniffled into Ozymandias’s chest, “We shall never speak of this again.”

The old king chuckled and ruffled Whitakers already unruly hair, “If you wish my boy.”

He sighed, relaxing a bit, stiffening again when the thunder hit, but Mandias held him tighter which helped a bit. Eventually he heard a soft melody being hummed from his companion, bringing back old memories of a soft smile and vanilla with metal.

He’s not sure when he fell back asleep, but the storm had passed by the time we woke up.

“Thanks Mandy.” he whispered with a smile, before getting out of bed to begin his day.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!


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